


Continuum

by wyse_ink



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Adult Content, Canon Divergence (ish), Canon Universe, Character Study, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet, Kogami's POV, Post-Canon, Romance, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Shinkane - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyse_ink/pseuds/wyse_ink
Summary: Kogami knows he shouldn’t be surprised.
Relationships: Kougami Shinya/Tsunemori Akane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 105





	Continuum

Kogami knows he shouldn’t be surprised. Akane has nearly ten years of detective work under her belt--ten years in which she has clearly kept her mind sharp and training up. Five rapid pings of practice rounds hitting steel invite a very different image to his mind: one that he only vaguely remembers in his peripheral vision of bent knees and an unsteady grip. He had smarted off to her just before then not knowing she would take the shot. The next he’d been numb, his knees buckling beneath him and falling to the cold and unforgiving concrete. That moment had been a wake-up call; one that’s come back to him often ever since he returned to Japan. Yet presently, another scene holds his attention far more.  
Another five, and in a perfect, even pace. The muzzle of Akane’s pistol moves so little he can barely see it, and the thought amuses him as he thinks of the many men he’s trained without a fraction of her control.  
“That was your best yet today,” he says as she drops the now-empty magazine. She awards him a small smile, even though she doesn’t look his way.  
“Shion insists I should use the virtual simulator,” she says quietly. “She’s offered to send the footage to me afterward for study.”  
He takes one long, last drag on his cigarette before putting it out and discarding it before speaking again. “For a Dominator, I would agree with her. There’s an advantage to seeing yourself from every angle and for the ability to change modes and targets at such a rapid rate.”  
“But?”  
He’s used to how easily she picks up on his tone. “But in the event a Dominator won’t fire, you only have yourself to rely on.”  
At this she turns back to him, and not for the first time it strikes him how much of her is the same and how much is different. He recalls Shion mentioning her thirtieth birthday is rapidly approaching, yet the years barely show their effects on her skin. What is more notable is the way she carries herself, and it’s every bit as apparent as the way she handles a gun. There’s both a certainty and weight in her posture, one that he knows all too well is the mark of nearly a decade in their line of work. The way she speaks denotes a sharper contrast: the optimism she’s managed to maintain in her tone no longer is reflected in her eyes. In them is something more solemn and serious, and that’s the change Kogami finds most difficult to process.  
Even if it’s the most expected.  
“Do you still have Masaoka-san’s old revolver?”  
Her question causes him to step forward, and he produces it from his pocket. Out of habit he opens the empty chamber, turning the barrel so she can take it by the grip. She does so almost gingerly, and he tries to not to overthink it when her fingertips brush against his. Carefully closing it again, she turns back to the targets. Kogami watches her eyes follow the sight. Once, the revolver had felt natural in his hand--like a tool he’d been meant to utilize and, if the day ever came, administer whatever semblance of justice he could to protect others. Yet that day had long come and passed, and a relic of a man he’d respected had become a murder weapon. He knew it ought to belong to Gino even still, but when he’d suggested leaving it behind his old friend had declined. One day, he thinks, Ginoza might change his mind. Until then, Kogami would keep it on his person as a reminder of what he’d done and the chain of events that had transpired ever since.  
He can’t help but notice how much lighter it looks in Akane’s hand.  
“Have you shot it recently?” she asks, and he raises an eyebrow slightly.  
“Not in a while,” he admits, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes he can’t quite place.  
“In that case,” she says, opening the cylinder again, “how about we put it to the test?” He doesn’t have time to respond before she produces another box of ammunition and begins to load. Practice rounds for a .38, he notices, and realizes her initial question is just a formality. Closing it again and pulling back the hammer, she closes her hands around the grip and takes her stance. Kogami watches her let out a breath, her finger settling lightly over the trigger and beginning to squeeze. With a loud pop the first round is fired, and in that fraction of a second he sees it hit just left of center as the steel sings in confirmation. Akane pauses, bringing the revolver to her chest.  
“It’s different,” he says at the change in her expression. “It’s an older model made for one purpose.”  
“And what is that purpose?”  
“The last resort.” She doesn’t miss the change in his tone and he doesn’t miss the glance that she gives him before fixing her eyes on the target again. She adjusts her stance, hips lowered with left foot slightly before her, and slowly readies the gun before her. He assures himself he places every tightly-grouped shot that follows rather than watching the change in her form, and once all six rounds are fired, she slowly empties the chamber.  
“Your turn,” she says simply, and taking his cue he steps up to the line. He focuses on pushing any thoughts other than the task at hand from his mind, and beside him, he can just make out Akane tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers trace down her neck ever so slightly before she shifts and rests them in her pockets.  
Kogami sets the cylinder in place and raises the gun. Squeezing the trigger, he dead-centers his shot.

***

Her birthday comes and goes in a whirl of work and polite well-wishing from their colleagues. When it’s over, he notices she almost looks relieved and settles into a chair in his living room. It’s become a habit of hers despite his early reservations, and one that upon her arrival he’d sensed isn’t without meaning. Kogami sets a cup of tea down before her, her face lighting up as she sets her book aside and takes the cup in its place. He shifts his attention to the title as she settles back against her pillow, her cardigan parting slightly to the side.  
“ _The Great Gatsby_ ,” he says, and she takes a sip of her tea and nods. It’s a shorter read than he generally favors, and one he’s surprised she’s selected from his shelf. When he expresses this, a smile crosses her face.  
“If I said I’d chosen it for the topic of parties, would you believe me?”  
“I might,” he replies, “if there were no occasion.” Her eyes soften slightly at this, and Kogami knows he’s hit his mark. Over the years he’s gathered she’d rather not be the center of attention. In recent ones it only seems to be more the case, and he wonders just how deeply her time in isolation has taken its toll. While she’s done a good job concealing it, the flurry of attention she’d received from her team and a few others beyond it doesn’t seem to have set well with her, and even now she seems to be finding peace in their refuge.  
For a moment, she doesn’t speak. Her gaze settles itself over the contents of her cup, and she rubs her thumb against the brim of it lightly. “I wonder why it is that ambition can drive people to such lengths.”  
“Ambition is based in necessity and instinct. It keeps us moving forward.”  
“Yet in some it expands to the point of corruption; obsession.” She pauses for a moment, and he waits. “Ambition isn’t itself the root of either. In its purest form ambition isn’t what’s corruptible.”  
“But the individual is.” He states it matter-of-factly, and for a moment she watches him, her expression unreadable. Feeling the corners of his lips threatening to twitch upward, he sighs. “Though some are less susceptible than others.”  
She blinks slowly, and he can tell there’s more she wants to say. It’s become a theme of theirs with every reunion, whether after days, weeks, or even months apart. While neither cared for dancing around topics, there was always something that seemed to be left out or cut short in the time they did have together. Even after she’d shared with him all that had transpired in his years away and she’d convinced the same from him after a few too many drinks, the feeling had remained. The more he’d talked the more he’d been met with her quiet consideration and effortless, forgiving nature. At the time, he’d wondered if he’d shared too many details, sparing her only the graphic images of blood, gore, and terror she knew all too well. Yet even now he knows he hasn’t, and she understands his meaning.  
When she speaks, her voice is gentle. “I told you once I thought you could dive into the abyss and find your way back. Did you ever believe it?”  
“I knew you believed I could,” he begins carefully, his eyes drifting to the watch she wears on her wrist, hating seeing it there and hating the meaning it now carries for her. Then, more quietly, he utters a short apology. It’s not the first time he’s done so, but it’s never seemed like enough for breaking his promise to her. For her losses, devastation, or her change in stations. Kogami knows he couldn’t have prevented them all, but as much as a sense of pride flows through him in recognition of her capabilities as a detective, a pang of guilt always comes in tow.  
She gives her head a slight shake and a smile crosses her face. Acceptance. It’s his constant reminder of how she keeps her hue so clear, even in isolation.  
Even as an enforcer.  
Taking in her relaxed frame, he allows himself not to bury the thought that follows deep into his psyche. Instead he embraces it, and entertains the idea that neither of them will ever be ordinary.  
He does his best to not let it consume him.

***

He remembers a time when he’d liked the feeling of them as equals. When Akane had first stepped into her role as Inspector she had brought with her a dynamic he’d forgotten could exist within Division 1. Under her, the bounds of Sibyl and realities of his station had taken new form. Kogami had meant it when he’d told her he could be a detective again, and at that time, he was sure he could’ve been. They’d all noticed the strong sense of justice Akane brought to the team--even Gino, who’d been so consumed by bitterness that it’d taken some time before he’d noticed the impact of her presence--and for the first time in a long time it’d seemed that their division was finally back on the path of justice with her leadership. Yet he’d learned long ago fate had a funny way of rewarding those in their line of work, if they were lucky enough to last in it at all.  
The title of Enforcer doesn’t suit her.  
Akane doesn’t seem to mind, and the feeling of her weight over his hips blurs any lines he might’ve drawn before. He’d have never taken an inspector into his bed, much less a woman with all the promise she’d had and still possessed even after being stripped of her former rank. But she reminds him it’s not the first time he’s done so as her hands tighten in his hair and she sighs against his mouth, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull her legs around him.  
Almost lazily she tilts her head back, inviting his lips to wander against her jawline and neck. He settles them just at the base in the spot he knows she’s ticklish and cups her breast. It sends a tremble through her, one that causes her to release his hair and drape her arms limply over his shoulders instead. With his free hand he pulls her onto and against him and traces down the side of her body.  
Her hips jerk and press against his, and when she looks at him, her message is clear. He doesn’t waste a breath as he turns, bringing her to her back against the cool sheets and kissing her with an intensity that matches her decisiveness. His hand trails her body again and slips between her legs. She gasps, her body tensing for a moment before pushing against him and welcoming him as he massages the tender space between. Feeling her opening beneath him he slips one, then two fingers inside, and Akane lets out a breathless laugh.  
“Shinya,” she manages, and he holds onto the sound of his name as it escapes her lips. It sounds different in her tone, and sweeter with the effort it clearly takes. In what little light seeps into his room he barely remembers to roll on protection and uses the pause to take in her form: the pale, unmarked skin, the glimmer of sweat that’s begun to emerge between the two, and the solemn but assuring eyes with heavy, lowered lashes. The last of which is a sharp contrast to the tremor of her hand as she pulls him down to kiss her again, and for a moment, he’s reminded that she’s inexperienced and he’s still out of practice.  
Her practiced breaths turn sharper and more ragged as his hand works, and when her fingernails find his back and her legs loosen around his torso, he enters her.  
He takes it all in: her gasps and softness and intoxicating heat. Her hands wander against his back as his mouth finds hers again--her voice disappearing into kisses and pants and murmurs he barely hears. He feels her body tighten and release again and again as he pushes her closer every minute, and the sound of her breaths turning to moans race through him like a pulse.  
When her arms snake around his neck he knows he’s close. He places a rough kiss in the crook of her neck between breaths as her back arches in need. Once, twice, he drives her again until he’s sure he can’t delay any longer. Her release is every bit as sharp as his--her head pressing back deep into the pillow and body tensing violently until she falls limply into the sheets. She turns the minute he rolls to her side and lightly traces his shoulder with her knuckles. Without a word he catches her hand and brings it to his mouth.

***

Months later Akane’s voice is even on the other line as she tells him of a suspect they’d apprehended earlier that morning. There’s an eagerness to it as she shares that they’d managed to talk him down, and that his crime coefficient is nearly ten points lower than it’d been when they’d arrested him. He’d soon be subject for recovery no doubt, and Kogami reads between the lines to know it was all her doing.  
He leans against the old observatory railing and tells her of the crisp air in northern Japan. Fall is settling in, and the hills have erupted in colors he can’t adequately describe and knows the screen won’t do justice. She listens intently, to the details he shares of his mission and about the local food. The rural charm sounds wonderful, she says, he tells her she’ll have to try it herself.  
When their small talk concludes, an understanding falls, and she tells him to come home soon. He gives her a smile and knows he will.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read Continuum. I hadn't planned on writing another fic, much less one that was somewhere between canon compliant and canon divergence. However, when inspiration struck, I couldn't pass up the chance to try to get into Ko's head and explore what effects time and distance have had on his and Akane's relationship (or what those might mean moving forward). Let me know if you catch any typos--this is entirely unedited and done in a single, sleep-deprived sitting.
> 
> As always, please don't re-post or copy any portion of this work. 
> 
> This can also be found on:
> 
> Tumblr: https://psychosibyl.tumblr.com/post/626116183128670208/continuum
> 
> FanFiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13668431/1/Continuum


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